The Home Front: A Letter From England 1941

On Veteran's Day our gratitude goes out to the men and women who have served our country and our country's allies. Geoffrey Adams was a 1st cousin (2x removed) who served with the RAF during World War II. At least that is the family story, not as yet verified. I hope it's true. As my dad's grandfather told him, Geoffrey was a fighter pilot who upon being wounded was assigned to transport aircraft between Canada and the UK. The family in the states lost track of the family in Wales and England at some period after the war.

The Lion of Judah
Dad's grandfather, John E. Barker, Sr., so the story goes, was watching a newsreel at the local theater in Kaysville, Utah, with his grandson, when he thought he recognized his nephew, Geoffrey. Dad remembers grandfather jumping to his feet and telling the audience, "There's our Geoffrey!" Grandpa loved America and he loved his homeland, too. The war was a trying time as he worried about how his family in Britain was faring. He went to the movies often view scenes of war played out on his native soil. On numerous occasions grandfather would exclaim a quote he had read related to the war, "The lion of Judah will rise up and give us the victory again and again!" He had great faith and hope that good would win over evil.


Geoffrey Adams, far right, with his mother and father Jessie and Joseph H. Adams. The dog-eared corners are a testament to having traveled by post from Great Britain to Utah and then shared many times as the story was told of cousins far away.

Fighter Pilot or Civil Defense Worker?
Geoffrey's father, my Grandpa John's half brother, Joseph Harry Adams, wrote a letter in 1941 providing a glimpse of Geoffrey, one that doesn't quite match the fighter pilot story. If the letter is accurate, at that time Geoffrey was engaged as a civil engineer, supporting the war effort. RAF member of civil defense. It is possible he had trained as a pilot, served in air transport without being part of the actual fighting. Regardless of the details of Geoffrey's war time service, the letter serves as a window into worn-torn Britain.

Letter from the Home Front
Tan-y-coed, Mostyn,
Flintshire, Wales,
Great Britain
 
November 28, 1941
Dear John

It gave me the thrill of my life when I arrived home at dinnertime yesterday, to find a letter from America awaiting me. I can tell you I was very excited.

Well now, in regards to your query as to how we are progressing during these awful days. I do not know as I said before how George's family have faired in the air raids which have taken place over their part of the country, but I don't think they have been subjected to a lot, except for one particular 'blitz' over a neighboring city. You know where George lives [Yorkshire], and it was the city next to his town they concentrated on. We have had bombs in our village where I live, but they have done no damage, no one hurt, and the bombs fell mostly on the open fields.

I think the reason why we have had the bombs was that 'Jerry' was in a hurry to get rid of them, as probably the gun fire would be too heavy for him to get to his objective which would be the place where I met John when he was over in England. We are only about 12 or 14 miles away as the crow flies, so we get the full blast of the guns where we are and there is no sleep for us while the raid is on. We also get the pieces of steel from the bursting shells, so we have to look out.

An iconic World War II propaganda poster from the British National Archives (1).

This will appear a very disjointed letter I am afraid, but there are so many things I want to say my thought get a bit messed I am afraid. Now I must get back to your question regard[ing] food and clothing. Food, as you will have seen in the papers, is rationed, except bread and there is plenty of that. In fact, there is plenty of the rationed foods except that the distribution is somewhat faulty at times and of course some parts of the country do better than others - the country places I think are better off than the towns. There has been a very good harvest this year. I think millions of acres more land have been cultivated; but another problem arises there and that is man power for working the acres. However, I see the farmers are to have some thousands of men left to them for work on the farms.

It was given out on the wireless tonight we were to have some of your celebrated American 'Spam,' so perhaps before you get this epistle we shall have tasted it. I don't suppose it will be any better than our good old-fashioned 'home cured?' I have written the last sentence with a smile on my lips, so don't think we are not grateful for all the help we are getting from America - we are - very. We get clothing by coupons, but there are plenty of well dressed people knocking about yet.

You ask if I am in the service? I suppose I am as I am engaged on 'essential war work.' I am at an iron works as furnace manager and all iron-works are on war work. Geoffrey is a civil engineer, and he is engaged at Chester and is on civil defense work. He gets home each week end, and we hope to see him tomorrow. He will be on duty tonight at the headquarters of the civil defense force. These posts have to be manned every night, and his turn on duty is every fourth night. Only in the event of a raid are they very busy.

Monday Night, December 1, 1941
I had to break off last Friday night as it was bed time and I have had no time for writing during week end. Geoffrey cam home on Saturday and went back this morning. He tells me it is sixteen years since John [John E. Barker, Jr. served an L.D.S. mission] came over to England - that is about 1925. It was different England in those care-free years. We were living a care-free happy life here - not thinking of war and even then the Germans were preparing and thinking of having their revenge for the 1918 happenings. Well, we must not make the same mistake after this lot is over. When one thinks of all the people they have killed in occupied countries, and I don't mean soldiers killed in battle, but women and children and old men civilians - 30,600 in the town of Rotterdam alone, one wonders what the end of Germany is to be. I suppose and I think it is generally thought they will try to invade this country before the end of things, but they will have a hot time of it, and I feel sure that any who land in Great Britain will not live to tell of it. We are very slow moving but so is an avalanche - and that takes a lot of stopping when it starts moving. Your President, John, is a wise man and is very far-seeing, for which we are very grateful. He has had an enormous task on his hands, coaxing and leading your great nation along the path, as he so clearly sees it; for, don't make any mistake about it, if Hitler had conquered England in the September of 1939, America would have been his next real objective. But he didn't and that is where his plans came unstuck. But I imagine in these days of broadcasting you will all have followed events over here as closely as we follow events in America.

That John Lewis, the miner's leader, you have with you there seems a nasty bit of work. From what I read his people came from South Wales, and they are a queer lot down thee - some of them, that is. As you are probably aware, I have lived in North Wales for 36 years. Here the natives are not so fiery and pugnacious as in the South and when one understands them they are quite likeable people.

Perhaps you will let me know when you receive this. Your letter posted on October 9 reached me on November 27. I should think that was as long as when you sailed to America, John. I mean from leaving England to arriving in Utah. Allowing 6 weeks for this and six or seven weeks or perhaps eight before I receive a reply from Rose, we shall be well into 1942, and I suppose a lot of things can have happened by then. 

Your affectionate brother,
Joe   

Tan-y-coed, the Adams' home, is located two miles from the Dee River coast at Greenfield, Flintshire, England. It is adjacent to Holywell the destination of pilgrimages honoring St. Winefride who according to legend rose from the dead. The site has been host to pilgrims for over 13 continuous centuries.

Greenfield Dock on the River Dee (2) from the 94th Minute website.

Sources:
The letter was printed in The Kaysville Weekly Reflex, date unknown, but sometime after November 28, 1941. The article was headed "English Brother Writes Letter to Davis Man" with the introduction "Of interest this week was a letter received by John E. Barker, Sr., of Kaysville, from his brother in England. Portions of the letter are printed in this week's Reflex."
1. Picture taken from the British National Archives
2. Picture taken from The 94th Minute website. According to this site, Greenfield was the stepping off point for pilgrims headed to Holywell.

For Our Blessing: The Benefits of Work

He was a plate layer for the railroad. She braided and assembled straw hats. He alternated between gardener and agricultural laborer. She made boxes in a factory. He was a skilled weaver who assembled carpets in a manufacturing plant. She tended a loom at the age of eight and he was in the mines by nine years. Young and old, they worked for the meager necessities of life. 

Plate Layers at Whitacre Junction Station, Warwickshire Railroad, ca 1840

Labor Day. Not a day to do one's labor, but a gift to the workers of America, giving them an opportunity to enjoy a day off from that work. In response most people rush around in an effort to have fun. Once established to recognize the contributions of the worker to American life, this day has devolved into a day for families to have one last vacation before the end of the summer. Depending on the school schedule in any particular part of the country, it is an awkwardly placed weekend set just after the beginning of school where school children careen around in one last fling with their tired parents in tow. And then there are the commercial enterprises that offer no rest at all for their employees because business must go on, and it is generally acknowledged that American families can't have fun without spending money in the process.

Cheers to the workers throughout the world, not just in America, who labor to provide for the good of the family whole. Those moms and dads who struggle to supply the wants and needs of those for whom they are responsible. And then turn around and work to have fun on their day of holiday. The method of celebration aside, cheers to those who toil, especially those who toil in drudgery, who spend their day in dull, fatiguing or uninspiring work. Prayers to those, though, with no work available to do as that lot is the hardest of all.

I come from a long line of laboring class in England and America. Those few in England who had owned land had, by the mid-1800s, been reduced to the lives of workingmen and women, toiling primarily for the benefit of others. Those who owned land previously had not been wealthy, but had worked by the sweat of their brows, although with more autonomy in some cases. Those who were tenant farmers with legal contracts certainly had more stability than those who were itinerant agricultural laborers . Times were changed, however. If by circumstance, a head of family was still listed in the census records as farmer, his children were often agricultural or general laborers, railroad workers, factory workers, coal miners or colliers.  

Usually the wife was found to be “working in the home,” but some of these stalwart women were seamstresses and midwives. Many organized the necessities of the home and then tilled the garden as well, while managing a cottage industry on the side. They worked the land side by side with their husbands. Younger girls were hired out as milkmaids, brick makers, or in later years scholars. Boys often were working in the trades of their fathers or scholars. The luxury of going to school, however, was often found to be short-lived as they quickly assimilated into the working class. These were my people.

The Harvesters, by Pieter Bruegel the Elder. Netherlands - 1565

 Much to their distress, a few families were even confined to the poorhouse or from the records of the parish overseer of the poor records found to be on the charitable dole. A shroud for the burial of George and Fanny Randall’s son was purchased by the parish because they could not afford that necessity of their own. I am sure that x-Great Grandfather Randall would have agonized over his inability to adequately provide for his family. This undoubtedly took an inexorable toll that would have been heavy on his heart and soul.  I imagine the distress of Grandmother Randall who, no matter the effort, could not supply enough to heal the dying child so dear to her heart.

Dowlais Ironworks (the world's largest) by G. Childs. Merthyr Tydfil - 1840

The English civil and parish records create a bleak picture of the struggles in the Randall family during the Industrial Revolution. 

Yesterday was Labor Day 2015. A national holiday, Labor Day is celebrated the first Monday in September. It is a creation of the labor movement and is dedicated to the social and economic achievements of American workers. It constitutes a yearly national tribute to the contributions workers have made to the strength, prosperity, and well-being of our country (1). Working, though, provides an additional benefit to the fabric of America and the world. Beyond the tangible advantage to the economy of gainful employment is the psychological boost to the individual of self-respect and dignity (2). 

My immediate paternal grandfather was a descendant of those earlier Randall grandparents. He worked well into the night as a linotype operator throughout his adult life. He struggle with emotional and mental demands of his work. Joining a labor union must have allowed him the dignity of membership in an organization of men who understood his daily tasks and lauded his efforts. During the Great Depression he worked for pennies an hour, long hours a day. Grandma would sometimes walk through the dark streets to visit with him a moment in his most lonely moments. The anxiety of missing so many of the family's activities for so little monetary reward took a great toll on him as well. As difficult as this situation was for him, being without any work would have been much more stressful. I'm sure he was grateful for the ability to bring home a regular salary. Even pinched for money, he and my grandmother scraped together enough to purchase a small piece of farmland. This helped to augment payday wages.

Sources

1. http://www.dol.gov/laborday/history.htm

2. http://www.deseretnews.com/article/865636237/How-work-benefits-the-workers.html?pg=all
3. http://www.warwickshirerailways.com/lms/mrwj1171.htm
4. Note: Thank you to David Edwards for 2006 research in Wingerworth sources for Hibbs and Randall families.  

MARY ROE BOWER 1774 - 1848: A LIFE OF SORROW AND JOY

            Two centuries ago on the 24th of July 1774 the Roe family gathered in the Wingerworth Parish Church to view the baptism of their youngest, Mary, into membership in the Anglican Church.  As was the law the event would be recorded in the parish records, naming Joseph and Catherine Roe as her parents.  Joseph, who also farmed, was listed in those records as a joiner; dual occupations were then a normal way of life in much of rural England.  A younger sister and brother would later be born making Mary the seventh of nine children, an average number for the 1700s.

Wingerworth Parish Church

             At the time of Mary's birth England was, especially in the rural areas, experiencing peaceful, though rapid, industrial growth.  The Industrial Revolution was in the process of making Britain the world's wealthiest nation.  The revolution which had begun at the turn of the century in cottage textile production had spread to mining, transportation and other fields.  Unlike the larger industrial cities the farming community of Wingerworth was, thankfully, relatively stable.  Although Enclosure Acts of the past had disrupted tenancy of the land and progress continued to make changes, country people still lived much as their parents had done.

            It is assumed that Mary experienced a normal infancy and young childhood, playing with her brothers and sisters. By age 6  undoubtedly she was required to have learned how to work, completing household and maybe garden chores.  Perhaps she ran errands and cleaned in her father's carpentry shop.  She lived close to both her Bower and Roe grandparents, in fact, never moving outside of an approximately ten mile radius.  That life abruptly changed when tragedy struck the Roe household in the spring of 1780.

            On February 13th her older brother, John, who had died at 10 1/2 was buried, triggering a chain of events that decimated the family.  Two weeks later her two oldest brothers, George age 16 1/2 and Joseph almost 13, died also and were buried on the same day the 3rd of March.  Less than three weeks went by when her youngest brother, Jessey, who would have been 4 in a few months and baby Dorothy, age 1, were buried.  Before medical and hygienic advances small pox epidemics and cases of diphtheria still took many lives.  One of these may have been the cause of their young deaths.

            Two older sisters and one brother, Milicent, Elizabeth and Samuel, along with Mary and their parents survived that disastrous year.  All four of the remaining Roe children grew to adulthood and were married by the time first their mother and then father died in their 70s and were buried in the yard of the Wingerworth church where they had been married and near to the graves of their five children.

             In 1794 twenty year old Mary was married to William Bower.  She and her husband eventually became the parents of eleven children.  Within the first six years of married life five children were born: Christopher, Joseph, Milicent, and twins Leonard and William.  During this time the Bower family continued to live in Mary's home parish of Wingerworth.  Most young people relied upon savings they had made during a period of service to establish a home.  Parents helped their children in doing this if they could; this may have been the case on the part of Joseph and Catherine Roe.  The first nine children were all given family names either from the Bower or Roe family trees.  The second child, Joseph, was named for Mary's older brother who died the year she was 6.  Five other children were named for the aunt and uncles who died so young.

            By the time the children's grandfather, Joseph Roe, died the family had moved to Ashover Parish.  His will written in 1812 names "my daughter Mary Bower of the parish of Ashover."  In it he leaves her 40 pounds to be paid out at the rate of 5 pounds per year for the next eight years.  Her father may have been concerned about the couple's financial stability because her sisters, although receiving the same total amount, were to inherit the amount as a lump sum rather than in installments.

            It may be speculated that Mary's husband, William Bower, and, hence, the rest of that family experienced economic hard times.  Despite the evidence that William inherited the freehold, lands, and premises at the Hursts Farm in Ashover Parish from his father, Leonard Bower, by his death he was classed as an agricultural labor indicating that he hired out to others.  It was at the time William received his inheritance that the family moved to the Ashover area to occupy the farm on which the elder Bower had probably been previously residing.  Christening/baptism records show that sometime between 1807 and 1808 the family returned to Wingerworth.  This may be the point of financial reversal.  Five years later in 1813 Mary  received the first installment on her inheritance.  Presumably this installment improved the family's financial situation sufficiently to allow their return to Ashover.

            Apprenticeships were common for youth with specific periods of service outlined in a formal agreement.  Older laborers were also hired for defined periods of time with farm service based on the annual hiring fairs.  Of the children at least Milicent, Leonard, and William were employed under agreements of services.  Existing records show they were originally hired at 16 years of age and served for a period of about one year.  None appeared to have received schooling because as was commonly done each signed his or her name with an X.  Both Leonard and William were hired in 1816 the same year the youngest sibling, Emmanuel, was baptized.  They were evidently living in the hamlet of Prass, Ashover.  Christopher, the eldest, had married and left home two years earlier and Joseph would do the same three years later.

           By 1824 disaster struck at Mary's family once again.  George became mentally ill.  Although classed as " an idiot not dangerous," for the next several years the churchwardens attempted to have him chained or committed to the insane asylum at Nottingham.  They were unsuccessful in the attempt, perhaps due to the loving concern of his mother.  He was eventually confined to the parish poorhouse at a cost to the parish of 5 shillings per week.  Because the illness did not appear until age 21 it is possible that he may have become schizophrenic or have been involved in an accident.  Jessey passed away the year after George became ill at only 19 years old.

                         The twins, Leonard and William, then grown young men had become no less of a problem but in situations less apt to elicit sympathy.  In 1827 they were sentenced to two years in jail in the House of Corrections at Derby along with Melicent's future husband for assault.  It would seem, according to vestry minutes compiled by the churchwarden that at least William had behaved wickedly for some time.  Leonard died shortly after his release but William later married and became, hopefully for his mother's sake, a respectable citizen.  Inconclusive evidence implicates their father also in less than desirable activity.

            The Bowers lived in several neighborhoods and residences during their years in the parish of Ashover.  William was recorded as having worked as a collier in Spancor, and as laborer in Prass.  In 1826 the parish vestry minutes indicate they paid rent as occupiers of property in Milltown.  Many other farmers and craft families of the time stayed in the same locality all their lives but paid rent/leases on farms or houses.  Yearly negotiable tenancies were common in the Midlands for rented farms and small properties.  The 1841 census lists William Bower, agricultural laborer age 79, Mary Bower age 69, and Emmanuel Bower, agricultural laborer age 25 living in Alton, Ashover.  Emmanuel married five years later following the previous example of Samuel and John.

All Saints Parish Church in Ashover

               By 1848 a 74 year old Mary was still living in Alton but had become a widow, William having died the year before. Feeling her years, it is easy to imagine that she would have treasured the care of her only daughter; Milicent, however, had been married in 1846 at the spinsterish age of 48 only tragically to die three months later.  Mary was not to be defeated, though.  Recorded in the local newspaper was proof that despite her old age and trying circumstances she did not lose the courage and fortitude that had stood her in good stead during many trials.  Seeing two women engaged in fighting the old lady attempted to put a stop to the altercation.  After suffering fractured ribs and a punctured lung while trying to separate the two she died on September the 27th and was buried by William.

            The majority of records of Mary Roe Bower's life point to much heartache and sorrow.  Missing are the written proof of the joys she must have experienced during a long and fruitful life.  Like young girls everywhere she must have delighted in friendships, and fallen in love.  Like mothers throughout the centuries she must have rejoiced in her babies and grandbabies.  The affirmation of these human joys can only be found in her posterity, those who study the documentation of her life, read between the lines and learn to love her.

Note: Mary's grandson by her eldest son, Christopher, emigrated to the USA as did the great grandson of her second son, Joseph.  Both lived for some time in Utah and Wyoming and presumably knew each other.   Others of her posterity still live and prosper in the Midlands of England not far from where she lived.
Originally published in Derbyshire Family History Society Newsletter

Compiled from the following sources:             
            Ashover and Wingerworth Parish records              
            The Oxford Guide to Family History  

         Research notes of Sylvia Wright

            The World Book Encyclopedia

Electronic Sources:
            Picture of Nottingham Asylum opposite p160 of Blackner’s History of Nottingham.
            Photograph of Ashover Parish Church
For more information:
           Amber Churches 
           Ashover 

Buffalo Island

           This week, my daughter-in-law took my grandsons to Antelope Island for an outing. The elder grandson was on break from school and looking for a bit of adventure. Had I not been attending a funeral of a wonderful ninety-something year old, I would have told them the story of Buffalo Island, the previous name for what is now known as Antelope Island. The following story was written by my grandfather, Jack or John E. Barker.

Isaac, ringing the chow bell in honor of Grandpa Jack

                "When I was fifteen years old I had the opportunity of working on Buffalo Island putting up hay. John Thornley and Burt Harris were managing the island at the time, however, a Fred DeShields owned two thousand acres and he was operating this. 

From gent to ranch hand, a transition in the making

             "It was spring and word came to as that Fred DeShields would meet us at Saltair and take us over to the island at an appointed time, 6 o'clock. Bryan Swanger and I gathered our packs together one afternoon and went to the Bamberger Station, in Kaysville and went to Salt Lake. There we took a train that went to Saltair. We tried to locate Fred DeShields but could not find him, the time was 6:25 P.M.  We waited and waited, but he was net to be found. We rode on the Dipper and had a good time at one thing and another until 12:30 A.M.  Finally we located Fred DeShields.

            "We went out to the docks at Saltair and Fred had a motor boat. He weighed 480 pounds and when he got in the motor boat it sank in the water quite a let. We went down the ladder and got in and Fred started the motor and we pulled away from Saltair. 

Saltair Pavilion, Great Salt Lake, Utah, 1900.

             "The moon was out in fall and the reflection on the salt water was beautiful. There was a wind blowing and the salt water would make what they called white caps. When the boat would hit a white cap it would cause quite a spray of water to go in the air and the boat would go up and down. By the time we got to the island I was sea sick. But it was quite a trip and I enjoyed it. We pulled into the docks at the island, where they lead cattle, ate, and we unloaded. Fred had a truck there and we put our packs in the truck and we started for the ranch house. We arrived at the ranch house at 3:30 A.M. We were told to sleep in a certain canvas, one room house, so we got our bedding, etc., and went in the bunk house.  We finally got to bad and soon after we aroused by something biting us. Soon it was daybreak and we got out of bed to see what was biting us. There were more bed bugs there than there are flys [sic] on the screen door waiting to come in when someone opens the door on the first cool nights.

            "Well, we decided to make our beds on the machine shed and sleep out there. We put a ladder up and took our bedding up and slept on the machine shed all summer.

            "When we got to the ranch house I was thirsty and there was water coming out of a pipe and I thought it was good old spring water so I had a drink. When I examined the water the next day I found it was water that the ducks had been swimming in.

            "Mr. Whipple was running the ranch house and he gave the orders on hauling the hay. We were told to haul hay and put it in a huge barn. It was not baled hay, it was loose, and we had to pitch it on and off the hay rack.

            "Well, we worked a half day and went in for dinner. I noticed Fred DeShields was there. He went out in the garden and got twelve large cucumbers and peeled them and put them on the table by his plate. He would eat the twelve cucumbers before he started on the dinner that had been prepared. Buffalo roasts, steaks, etc., were served everyday at the ranch house. The meat would keep about two weeks in the cooler they had.  It consisted of a wooden frame about four feet square and six feet high, Burlap sacks were tacked on the sides of the cooler, a tin top with sacks over the tin, a door on the front with sacks hanging down. A pipe from the spring furnished the water to keep the sacks wet. In this manner the food would keep cool. A breeze or slight wind cause the air to move would keep it cooler.

            "Every two or three weeks Fred would pack up or hook up to the buckboard and go out in the mountains by himself and bring back a buffalo calf.

            "There weren't any lights on the island so we had to go to bed with the chickens. We would go to bed when it got dark and get up when it became light. When it commenced to get dark up the ladder we would go on top of the machine shed. We would lie in bed and watch the stars come out. We would count the stars as they came out. After we had counted to about three hundred they would come out so fast we couldn't keep them straight so we had to give up counting them. We knew where the dipper was, the eastern star, the morning star, and many others. We watched the moon change from one-quarter to full moon. We learned that if the first quarter of the moon was in a position where it would hold water, it would not rain, but if it was in a position where water would run out, it was going to rain. It didn't rain all summer. We were not driven inside for shelter once. 

Antelope Island Horsemen, c1920

             "Well, the next day we got up as soon as it was daylight, went out to the barn and harnessed the horses. We washed our hands and face in cold water near the spring and went in the ranch house for breakfast.  We had bacon and eggs for breakfast. After eating we went to the barn and hooked the horses to the hay rack and drove to the hayfield. We pitched on a load of hay and took it to the barn. They had a derrick and we would put the hay into the barn through the roof and it would fall into the loft. After we put a load in the loft we would move it with a pitchfork out of the way to make room for another load.  This was the procedure all summer long.

            "One day we went out for another load of hay, and after we loaded up one of the horses wouldn't pull, it decided it wanted to quit the job. We tried everything to get the horse to pull, but it wouldn't. Finally, Bryan, the man I was working with, grabbed the pitchfork and jabbed it into the horse’s hind quarters and continued jabbing until it began to bleed freely. I couldn't stand it any longer, so I told Bryan not to do it again or he and I would have trouble. He believed what I said and he didn’t stick the fork in the horse any more. We waited for about half an hour and then told the horses to pull the load and they did.

            "Sometime later we were hauling hay and there was a buffalo in the field. That night at the dinner table we mentioned it to the man and they told us the buffalo was blind and didn't stay with the herd. Everyday the buffalo was in some of the hay fields.  One day we went out for more hay and the blind buffalo was coming toward us and when it got within a hundred yards of us it got frightened and went out into the lake. It kept going out farther and farther until all we could see was a spot about the size of a football. We thought it was going across to David County, but the next day when we went to the hayfield there was the blind buffalo. 

Buffalo on Antelope Island by Ray Grass for Deseret News

 "On Sunday me would saddle up the horses and go for a ride up north. We found a good place to swim in the lake and we would go swimming.

            "At that time there were about five hundred buffalo on the island, and it was known as Buffalo Island. Now I think the island is known as Antelope Island.

            "One Sunday as we were riding along, somewhere west of Syracuse, we came across a hard of old buffalo bulls. We inquired about this at the ranch house and we were told that the old bulls were driven out of the herd by the young bulls. They would leave the herd. Their way of fighting was to charge at each other with their heads. And the one that went down first lost the fight. And this is the reason there was a herd of old buffalo bulls.

            "As we were riding one Sunday we came across a few buffalo, and one of them stood and looked at us. Bryan had a .22 caliber pistol and he said watch me frighten that buffalo. He fired the gun and we decided the bullet hit the buffalo in the forehead. The buffalo shook its head and loped away over the mountain. The mountains on the island are not half as high as the mountains in Davis County. When we returned to the ranch house we examined the skulls of some of the buffalo that were around on the ground and we found that the bone in the forehead of a buffalo was twelve inches thick.

            "One Sunday we saddled up the horses and rode west from Saltair.  The other side of the island is about the same as the east side. Out in a distance is another island they call Bird Island. There are thousands of birds on this island. We saw a large herd of buffalo on the other side that is the west side of the mountain. Springs are few on the island. There must be some fresh water lakes back in the hills where the buffalo get drinking water. 

Garr Ranch House activities include roping and riding

              "Well, we finally got all the hay put up. There was a lot of it in the barn, but it was not full by any means. We were glad we were through with putting up hay. We were ready to go home. But, there was trouble.  Fred DeShields had gone to Salt Lake and they didn't know when he would be back. Some said he probably wouldn't be back till spring. We thought we would call John Thornley or Burt Harris and tell them to locate Fred and have him come and get us. We went to the ranch house to use the telephone, but when we got there they told us there wasn't a telephone on the island. 

            "What was the next thing to do? We didn't know. We thought we might be able to swim to Saltair if we started early in the morning. Then we thought about our clothes and bedding. If we decided to swim we would have to leave them. But then Fred could bring them later and we could pick them up at the Dooly Building in Salt Lake. They had Antelope or Buffalo Island offices in the Dooly Building.

Garr Ranch House, c1920

            "Days and nights passed. At night we were still counting the stars as they came. One day good news came. Mr. Whipple had driven down to Fred's ranch house and Fred had come back to the island.  In a couple or three days he would come and pick us up and take us to Saltair.

            "Our chins were touching our chests but when we heard the good news they came up to normal position.

             

            "Two days later good old Fred came to get us. We loaded oar bedding in the truck, Mr. Whipple and his wife went too. We all got in the truck, five to be exact, leaving Joe, Dan and Mike to take care of things at the ranch. After an hour riding over rough roads we came to the loading docks. We all got into Fred's Astor boat and we were on our way to Saltair. We arrived at Saltair at about five o'clock. From there we caught a train to Salt Lake. When we got to Salt Lake we went to the Bamberger station and caught a train to Kaysville. It sure seemed good when we got off the train in Kaysville. There was the old public school building, and Jimmy Proudfoot was at the station getting a load of freight to take down to Chris Burton's Store, where I later worked as a delivery boy. 

Bamberger Station at Kaysville

             "We picked up our bedding and clothes and started up through the school grounds. Dad's house was just west of Uncle George's house. Bryan Swanger lived just east of Leone Gardner. Both of these houses had been pulled down now.

            "Dad and Mother were both glad to have me home again and I was glad to be home again."

Note: Grandpa told about once seeing a white buffalo in the herd. A white bison or white buffalo is considered sacred by Native Americans. It was often visited for spiritual ceremonies and prayer. A white buffalo is rare, estimated as one out of every ten million births. Isaac, your grandpa Papa, went on a mission to the Lakota Sioux when he was a young man. They believe the white buffalo to be mystical and gives a message of hope.

Sources: 

1. "Buffalo Island" by John E. Barker © Permission is granted for educational and family history purposes with attribution. No changes may be made.

2. Photos taken from “Ranching On Antelope Island: An Information Guide to the Garr Ranch on Antelope Island”, published by Friends of Antelope Island and the Utah Humanities Council.

3. Photo of Bamberger Station taken from Kaysville City web site. 

4. Photo of Buffalo found online at Deseret News article by Ray Grass. "Annual buffalo roundup healing Antelope Island herd". November 15, 2007.

5. Photo of Saltair: Saltair Pavilion, Great Salt Lake, Utah. Detroit Publishing Co. no. 53809. Library of Congress, Prints & Photographs Division, LC-DIG-ppmsca-18164 (digital file from original item). 1901. This photo is in the public domain with no known restrictions to use.

Mother's Day

Charlotte Randall Barker Adams

Since today is only a week since Mother's Day, it seems appropriate to post a history of Charlotte Randall who lived in Old Whittington Hill when grandpa stopped by to meet her for the first time.

Life of Charlotte Randall

           Charlotte Randall grew up in the area surrounding the city of Chesterfield, primarily in the Nether Moor - Furnace Hill part of Wingerworth Parish.  Furnace Hill was named after the ironworks that stood there from the late 1700s to the early 1800s (Edwards).  Her father, George Randall, worked variously as a coal miner and agricultural laborer.  He likely also assisted the gamekeeper at Wingerworth Hall (Marriage Cert.).  Charlotte’s mother Sarah [Twelves] who lived into her 70s may have taught Charlotte to sew, a skill that she utilized as a seamstress while still young. Her great-granddaughter Belva Hall Francom wrote, “As a young girl she was a seamstress in Wingerworth Hall.  This people were called gentry or the upper middle class.  Through association with the upper class she became refined and cultured.”  While this claim can not be documented, photographs show her dressed in elaborately pleated and ruffled dresses.   

          Charlotte was the third of eight children and the second daughter.  The Randalls were quite poor, receiving assistance from the parish church.  The entire family may never have lived together under one roof as Charlotte, 17, and her sisters Hannah,15, and Harriett,12, were all working outside the home as servants when the 1861 Census was recorded.  Harriett’s work may have resulted in the initial introduction of the young couple. Charlotte’s little sister was working as a house servant for the Crofts family in Sutton cum Duckmanton with Frederick’s two brothers, Charles and Edwin, who were carters and so she may have had an opportunity to meet their older brother.

          At age 17 Charlotte had moved to the village of Barlborough to live and work for the Cast family. Cast was a butcher and a farmer who hired her on as a dairymaid.  Charlotte never spoke about milking, herding or tending dairy cattle, although she did reminisce in her later years about sewing for the gentry at Wingerworth Hall.  Perhaps the work wasn’t to her liking, but undoubtedly she learned how to perform a good day’s labor.  As a young widow this experience stood her in good shape to do the labor of a cleaning or charwoman.  Since Barlborough is at least ten miles from her home in Furnace Hill in Wingerworth Parish it is easy to imagine Charlotte walking the distance, stopping at Duckmanton to rest and visit with her sister before walking on to her parents’ home.  She apparently lived for a time in Duckmanton (Obituary).

Wingerworth Hall, Chesterfield, Derbyshire, England

           One thing that becomes apparent is that family stuck together and supported one another. Census records show that siblings in the Randall families lived with each other as adults. Family connections were strong between the Randall syblings as well as between the Barker and Randall families, a necessity in times of difficulty.  Charlotte’s older sister Mary Randall married Frederick’s older brother Henry Barker; two sisters married two brothers.  James Randall stood as witness when Mary and Henry were married.  Charlotte’s younger sister Hannah stood as witness when she and Frederick were married.  Hannah and her husband George Bown welcomed the youngest Randall daughter, Selina, to live in their home when she was 15 and after her father had died.  In that same year 1871 it is recorded in the census records that Hannah and George also had visiting with them their nephew George Barker, age 5, the son of Frederick and Charlotte - he appears to just be visiting as he show up in the same census living with his parents.  When Selina Randall married George Newton, they in turn, provided a home for her brother George, who at 29 was single and working as an engine tenter at the iron works.  It is recorded in the 1891 census that James Randall as a 52 year old widower took in the wife and daughters of his brother Jabez when Jabez found work in Whittington.  While in Whittington Jabez boarded with Selina and George.  Charlotte’s mother, Sarah, had outlived two husbands and at age 70 she is found living on Whittington Hill with one daughter, Hannah Bown, living on one side and another daughter, Selina Newton on the other side.  Down the road lived another daughter Charlotte Barker.   It appears that with small homes of 4 rooms or less, especially if finances required a family to take on a boarder, some children or even the father may be sent off to work or to live with a married sibling.  It must have sometimes been difficult to share close quarters but the families worked together to provide for each other.

             Children were born to the Frederick and Charlotte over the next few years.  Fred worked at several different occupations to support the family.  Both George and John were born in the  Wingerworth area where the couple took up residence after their wedding.  John’s birth certificate lists his father’s occupation as general laborer and at the birth of George two years later as gardener.  He was working as a farm laborer six years later when Jabez was born.  When George was married he is registered as a farmer.  A history written by a great-granddaughter states that “as a child he lived on a large farm in Bolsover.  He learned to handle horses while on the farm and later became a horse trainer.” (Francom) By the time Charlotte gave birth to Jabez they were located in Mosbro or Mosbrough  north of Chesterfield in Eckington Parish. 

            While in Mosbro two tragedies befell Charlotte.  Frederick was thrown from a horse he was breaking and suffered fatal injuries. “ The accident happened in the spring of 1874; he lived as an invalid until Sept. 1874 when he died in Mosbro, Derbyshire, England. With three children younger than John at home, Charlotte had to find a way to make money.  “She made money taking in roomers”(Francom). The next few years were undoubtedly trying ones for Charlotte and her children.  Within eight years, however, another heartbreaking incident occurred.  In 1876 she moved to Whittington to live where she worked as a cleaning or charwoman (Birth Cert.). Soon afterward Jabez who was only six years old was injured, suffering burns on his abdomen, chest, neck, and arms.  Because water was heated on a stove, it is possible that he pulled scalding water over onto himself or a similar situation.  According to the death certificate he died with his mother in attendance in December of 1877 after bearing the pain for 14 days.  It must have seemed like the pain couldn’t be handled but Charlotte had a baby boy, Edgar to take care of.  Fortunately, she also had John, George and Annie Alice to share her grief. 

Charlotte and George Adams family.

           Charlotte must have developed a supportive friendship with George Adams about this time, also, as indicated by a photograph in which Annie Alice is identified as the young girl and the boy is probably Edgar. The 1881 Census of Whittington shows that John, 18, and George, 15, had been working as coal miners to assist their mother.  Annie Alice was listed as a scholar.  George and Charlotte were married in 1882.  This event took place in Sheffield, Yorkshire, but they return to Whittington where Charlotte had been living. Adams had been a bachelor until he married at the age of 32 into a ready-made family.  Of this union a son, Joseph Harry was born in 1884 and welcomed by the older brothers and sister.  After John and Edgar moved individually to the United States, a correspondence with Joe was maintained.  

            John boarded a steamship in 1882 to travel to Utah where he took up coal mining once again in order to save money to send for his sweetheart, Rose Bacon.  Members of the Mormon Church, they lived in Wyoming for a time and then moved back to Utah where they raised eight children to adulthood and buried four.  At times John had to board away from home to work the coal mines, at others he was able to find work as a city maintenance worker, a brickyard part-owner/foreman, or constable.

           

            George was able to find employment away from the coal mines.  By 1887 he had married Mary Jane Owen and was working as a wagon builder.  In the 1891 Census he was found, again, hewing coal, but when John’s son, Jack Barker, visited England in 1925 he was a bobby or policeman. George and Mary Jane had five children, the first two born in Nottinghamshire and the last three in Yorkshire. 

            Annie married Frank E. Beresforde who also worked as a miner or colliery laborer.  They had one child who was born in Whittington where they continued to live close to Charlotte.

            Edgar married Lilian May Hewett and they followed John to America where they lived with he and Rose for a time until they were settled.  He was a good carpenter and also worked with John in the brickyards loading brick.  They raised six children, the first being born in Whittington, Derbyshire, the second and third in Worksop, Nottinghamshire, and the last four in Utah. 

                                                                                   

            Joe moved with his wife, Jess, and son, Geoffrey, to North Wales where he was a furnace manager in an iron-works plant (Adams).

Old Whittington Hill

             George Adams was to remain Charlotte’s companion into old age where they still lived on Whittington Hill in Old Whittington when her grandson, Jack Barker came to visit in the mid 1920s.  Of that occasion he wrote,

When I met her in 1925 at 56 Old Whittington Hill near Chesterfield, Derbyshire, England, she was a little old lady about 85 years old.  I would go out and buy fish and chips and we would play dominos while eating the fish and chips.  Her husband, George Adams, was an old man about 80 years old. . . 

When I found 56 Old Whittington Hill, I knocked on the door.  It was in the morning and Grandpa Adams was still in bed.  Grandma went over to the stairway and called him.  She said, "Come on, old foggy, it is time to get up."   After a while he came paddling down the stairs into the kitchen.  Grandma told him I was John's boy from America.  He was glad to see me and I spent some time telling him about America.  He was very glad to listen to me talk.  I went to the golf course with him to watch them play golf.  We spent a lot of time at the golf course. . . 

Charlotte outlived her second husband.  At age 86 she wrote a letter to her granddaughter, Mahala Barker Hall, in which she stated that she was very lonely after his death. 

Note: 

The photograph of Wingerworth Hall is from a postcard. It was originally found on the Chesterfield Forum.